Masquerade
by Mari83
Summary: What if one of the many transgenics in Terminal City actually wasn’t a transgenic? What if one of them was a spy from White’s Cult? Christmas fic for JeannetteG in this year’s Secret Santa challenge. After Freak Nation and probably a bit AU.


_**Disclaimer**_: Don't own Dark Angel

_**Secret Santa story for **__**Jeannette**__** who wished for:**_

_1)Another confrontation with __White__ and another group, not the elite  
warrors... they're not so tough.  
_

_  
2)Find a cure.  
_

_  
3)Alec befriend an enemy from the group that __White__ pick to serve for his cult  
buddies and end it once and for all... Happy ending with __White__ and his cult  
buddies DEAD._

_**And didn't want to see:**_

_1)Max and Alec together in a romantic way  
_

_  
2)Asha with Logan in a romantic way.  
_

_  
3)Logan with anyone one we know, if there has to be something going with his  
manly urges. __But it will still hurt. _

This is what I came up with. Apologies in advance for errors, general stiffness and for turning this into yet another multi-chapter story.

xxxx

**Masquerade**

xxxx

All things considered, it was only a matter of time until the Cult would try to smuggle a spy into Terminal City.

Manticore, the transgenics and their unique genetics were of utter importance to those calling themselves the Familiars. While some crazy militaries dreamed of perfect soldiers, for the Cult the transgenics were only a means for their end.

Perfection and superiority had been their goal from the moment their forefathers had founded their circle of chosen ones. Deciding that only the most worthy of them should procreate, they had established an intricate set of rules with the one goal of making their descendants a better breed of humans. They didn't expect miracles. The Familiars were patient, awaiting only the most gradual progress as they matched the right couples and observed their offspring.

It had proven to be a slow, frustratingly erroneous process… yet now, finally, there were better, more reliable methods. Now, with genetic engineering, they would leave behind the unpredictability of the old ways. Some in the Cult had resisted the idea for a long time, clinging to tradition… but in the end it was too promising. What before had taken generations of trial and error, now would be accomplished by a few scientists in lab, arranging and rearranging genes until they found the formula for the perfect human.

All they needed now were some human lab rats.

And so, when one of their many agents heard rumors about this secret government project, just beginning to form, they knew that their time had come. Bringing Manticore under their control had been almost too easy. Aware of their superior knowledge, they had placed their people in every lab, board and committee, subtly steering decisions as they let the government play around with their transgenic army.

It had gone so well. Overcoming the first catastrophic results, locked away in the basement, they had developed several X-series that showed the most promising features. The transgenic test objects displayed exceptional strength and outstanding intelligence…. and soon the genes that carried those qualities would be placed into a new generation of Familiars.

Then, out of the blue, came the raid on Manticore. Under colonel Lydecker's command some misguided X-5 destroyed the complete backup of project Manticore. The Familiars were shocked, startled, scared even… and told each other that they should have gotten rid of Lydecker much earlier, right when he'd started to call the young transgenics his 'kids'.

From then on things went awry. Only a few months after the first raid, just with the first successes of the mating program, the unthinkable happened: Another attack set free the whole transgenic population. In only a few weeks the transgenics spread all over town, all over the state and the country, escaping their purpose and destiny. They organized and gathered, raising that flag and claiming rights of which they had never been meant to even think.

They brought the public's attention to the existence of Project Manticore and everybody connected to it… and already the rumors had started that this hadn't only been a government program, that there was more, a horrid, shocking conspiracy.

TV stations and newspapers, worried neighborhood councils and self-assigned reporters thrilled by their own fear, they all went frantic with revealing the dark truth. It was only a matter of time until the hysteric mass would discover how right their assumptions were.

It was to be prevented, at all cost.

xxx

An inside man in Terminal City, infiltrating the transgenic community from within, was the first step in regaining control. It wouldn't be easy to find someone who was up to the task, not now that they were under the transgenic's paranoid observation. Day after day passed as the Elders reviewed the files of their best agents, looking for just the right man. In the end though… they picked a fourteen-year old boy.

Foolish at first glance, choosing a child over the combat-trained members of the Phalanx took advantage of the transgenics' biggest weakness: Their belief to be human. Nothing but walking experiments, they were naïve enough fantasize of a true community, a place for the genetic outcasts. And it was exactly this idealism that made their leaders careless toward those who stumbled daily through the city's gates. Some were trained soldiers who had been on outside missions before and knew how to get along without food rations and morning musters. The biggest crowd, however, were the dozens of scared, confused kids who not once in their lives had been without an order.

Adam Miller looked just like one of them. Hair a brownish blond, eyes a greenish blue, he was as unsuspicious as he was perfect. The elders didn't care that he'd never stuck out in any way, was introverted and far from ever showing any tendency for heroism. Adam was chosen for growing up on in England, had never known anything but living with a fake identity. His parents had left the US just a few months after the Pulse, working as bioscientists as they pretended to be just the normal, ordinary family escaping from the chaos.

Adam hadn't volunteered for the job. He hadn't been asked either, didn't have a chance to say no to a plan that just might get him killed. The Elder's delegation had come without warning, on an evening that ended like any other with turning to the family's rune textbook. Penetrating the house with their power and authority, the two men in their grey suites didn't give Adam any opportunity for protest.

His parents were thrilled, honored, proud, already imagining the respectful nods they'd receive from now on. It was such a privilege to have their one son, someone so young, trusted with an assignment so important to all of them.

Adam… didn't know really know what to feel other than slight panic. Eyes as blank as his face, he spent one last evening at home, keenly observed by his parents who treated him like that soldier who has only one night left.

The next morning he found himself face down on a gurney as a sharp needle drilled his new identity into the bare back of his neck. His designation: Sharp, black lines on tender, reddened skin.

He was to take the identity of a X7 who had been captured in the forest outside of Manticore just a few days ago. Adam was briefed on the history of his unit, trained to fight, taught military terms and instructed to trust nobody. And above all, he was always to remember his superiority.

A month later, on a chilly, foggy morning, they dropped him of at the gates of South Market, telling him to make his way to Terminal City.

…_**. To be continued….**_

_**A/N:**_ I never thought I would write S2 fic with a focus on the Cult, so this actually was a decidedly challenging challenge. I can't grant I got all wishes in (or to be canon about the Cult), but so far it looks like one prompt fully and parts of the other two. (And yes, I'm aware that genetic engineering is a lot more complicated)

Jeannette, hope this is halfway acceptable for you.


End file.
